What Are You Seeing?
by Searching4sanity
Summary: Remember the camera man taking photos of G at his sister's grave? Yeah, he's back but no one believes Callen. Not even Sam until bodies show up. And who's to say Callen's won't be among them? Rated T for language/violence. I own nothing. Reviews are loved
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be starting ANOTHER story but I'm sorry. I will try and actually update and if there's a week break from this update and the next one PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE send me a PM! I need the pestering!

Anywho...

Season 2 episode 1 we say G chasing that ninja guy up and down the streets of LA. So guess what? He's back and this time it isn't a nightmare... or so Callen thinks.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not awesome enough to think up characters or plots as cool as anything mentioned in this. I own nothing and am making no money from this. I just enjoy causing G mass amounts of pain. Which kinda scares me... that and the length of this disclaimer.

" Turn left." G ordered his partner as they drove back from lunch. Sam didn't respond. " Sam, turn left. It's faster."

" I know which way's faster G. Straight and then I go left on Miranda." Hanna argued. Callen shook his head,

" It's at least three minutes quicker turning left. Right here Sam! Turn!" he tapped the window impatiently, but Sam didn't move the wheel. " Sam!"

" No. I'm not letting you make us late, again."

" When have I made us late?" Callen demanded.

" Three times." Sam replied, G snorted. That was hardly anything. " Today." his partner added.

" When?" Sam smirked, and counted off on his fingers.

" You were late when I picked you up. Late turning in my paperwork I handed you yesterday, and late-"

G's eyes widened in stunned terror. Suddenly Sam's mysterious partner began to undo his seatbelt and snapped,

" Sam, stop the car! Stop the car now!"

His heart might've stopped, it was possible, but he didn't know for sure. G's blood screamed for him to jump out of the car. He had seen that man before. Many, many times before. Always escaping, never with a face. But he was always there, every time. The black sweatshirt, the cargo pants. He could almost hear the click of the camera over Sam's demands. His hand slammed the button down to release the seatbelt, while the others scrabbled at the door handle.

Sam floored the brake, skidding the car onto the curb. The look in his best friend's eyes was similar to one of a predator on a hunt. It was terrifying, it was the side of G that made him sure he was going to die on the job in the near future. What really worried Sam was that he believed it. That man had no reason to live, no family, no personal life. He had friends, all of them at work. His life revolved around his work. Sometimes Sam wondered if it weren't for the mystery called G's past would he still be here. Maybe that's why no one told him what the G stood for; they somehow knew it would drive G to keep going, no matter what.

Callen threw himself out of the door before the vehicle came to a full stop. Pain riveted through his legs but he ignored it, the adrenaline making up for any discomfort.

Sweatshirt guy sprinted away, down the street. G gave chase, his feet moving faster than usual, his heart trying to break his ribs. Tossing aside people and garbage cans, G sprinted in a dead run. It was now or never. Now or never.

The man swerved, ducked and dodged in a mad attempt to escape. Except this time G was expecting it and dodged, ducked, and swerved to keep up. He barely heard Sam's yell behind him. Later he'd get chewed out for running away but for now he had to keep going. There was no way in hell the man was escaping this time.

G slid on the asphalt as the man jerked to the right, across busy traffic. Without a second thought, Callen followed. Cars and people alike swore. The noise overcrowded his ears, making it impossible to hear the oncoming taxi.

BAM!

Pain ripped up the right side of his body, mainly his shoulder, as Callen rolled up the front of a taxi. Someone cursed and screeched at him, but G was already limping away, causing mass chaos in the street. But it didn't matter, he was close.

Except every step hurt, every breath costed him a little more strength. Blood trickled down his face and burned his tongue. He wasn't sure if his shoulder was dislocated but adrenaline kept him going, if a little more uncomfortable than before.

Sweatshirt hopped over a fence, G hot on his heels, even if he did bite back the scream that erupted from the new strain on his agonized muscles. Slipping inside the coolness of a store, Sweatshirt disappeared for a moment and G felt fear explode inside his chest, strengthening his will to go faster. No, no, no! He wouldn't, _couldn't_, withstand more months of not knowing. Of chases at night, of never seeing the face. Of never finding out why.

G dived forward, making a wild grab at the man's leg.

His fingers strangled flesh and suddenly they were both going down, the shoppers screeching in surprise. He hit the floor with a loud thud, and couldn't help but groan. Sweatshirt moaned much louder.

" G! What the hell?" Sam growled, entering the store abruptly. G stood up shakily,

" He was at the graveyard. He was the one who was taking pictures." Callen panted, wiping away blood and saliva from his mouth. Hanna sighed and flashed his badge to the owner, stepping forward to Sweatshirt who was sprawled on the ground, making sounds like an asthmatic car that hadn't seen an oil change in decades. On a normal day, he would've made a crack about how he worked with suicidal idiots. But on a normal day, they'd be arguing about how Miranda was the fastest way to work.

" What? What graveyard?" Sweatshirt demanded, a nasal voice paired with a scared voice of a kid no older than seventeen. His dark hair and scruffy eyebrows gave him an almost innocent look.

" You were taking pictures of me ten months ago! Gravestone, Hannah Lawson's." Callen spat back, determination pulsating from his raging eyes. But Sam had his doubts. From what G had told him, the camera man had worn a plain black sweatshirt and cargo pants. This guy's sweatshirt was obviously a chocolate brown with an insignia on the left corner, and his pants were a dark denim.

" G, this isn't our man." Sam announced quietly, turning away slightly from the suspect. Callen whirled on him, eyes wide with rage.

" What?" he hissed.

Sam sighed, wishing he was wrong, " His sweatshirt is brown." he explained shortly. Callen wheeled around. His eyes died as he realized Sam was right.

" I saw him Sam, his sweatshirt was black." Callen denied weakly.

But there was nothing either of them could do. This kid wasn't their guy. G had chased the wrong guy, somehow. G Callen was an expert agent, he would never make such a rudimentary mistake as this. He slipped in an out of aliases as easy as Kensi changed clothes. He asked the right questions and got the right answers. Hetty Lange hired him for God's sake. He followed his gut and was generally correct. Except now. Now he was wrong, now he had chased the wrong man. Gotten hit by a taxi for no reason. Made a scene out of nothing. If Sam didn't know better, he'd say G was incompetent.

" C'mon man, let's go." Sam gripped his stunned partner's shoulder to turn him around, but Callen winced and pulled away. For the first time Sam saw the blood on the side of his partner's face and the bruise forming on his cheek. His shoulder could've been dislocated but it was hard to tell. Hetty would be mad. " Sorry." Sam added to the kid and then to the rest of the store. " Sorry, our mistake."

But G wasn't ready to leave. " I saw him Sam. I know I did." he muttered.

" Well he's not here anymore. Let's go." Hanna ordered, noting the strange looks they were getting from everyone with apprehension.

" He was here." G argued.

" Hey buddy!" a middle aged, balding man called out to Sam. " Keep them crazies off the streets, will ya?"

Murder flashed in Callen's eyes and he nearly lunged forward, but Sam grabbed his good arm and practically dragged him back.

" Not worth it man. Not worth it. Now, get your skinny ass out the door." Sam hissed. G hesitated. His partner was right. The jeer wasn't worth a fight. He just wanted to punch someone. Just wanted to release his rage and frustration. He had seen him. Callen knew he was right. He had seen the camera man, he knew he had. But here was the proof he hadn't. If it had been anyone else, G would've wondered just what they had been taking lately. But it wasn't and Callen knew, he just knew as surely as knew that he must look like a lunatic right now, that Sweatshirt, the real Sweatshirt, had been here.

" I saw him." he grumbled and left. Sam nodded at the shocked store owner and followed his partner. Watching him limp down the street, blood flowing freely from his face, his breathing hard and his rage tangible, Sam had to wonder, what the hell had he seen?

Review and I'll update quicker! Critiscm is adored! (If that's spelled wrong, I apologize, my spell check isn't picking it up but I have a quirky computer!)

Have a wonderful, safe summer!

Searching


	2. Chapter 2 Drunk, Right?

AN: Wow, I think this is my fastest update ever! Thanks to susy, and Babs123 for the awesome reviews! You guys are as awesome as Hetty. And if anyone else could let me know what they think, that'd be AMAZING!

Standard Disclaimer: I can only dream…. Which sometimes I really do dream about NCIS LA/DC…. That in and of itself should scare me….

Chapter 2 Drunk, Right?

" What happened to you?" Kensi demanded at the sight of Callen, limping heavily towards the couch, blood drying on his face. He didn't answer, just kept glaring at the floor in front of him, his blue eyes far away.

" Ah, well then, that explains it." Deeks remarked sarcastically, earning himself a glare from his partner. Sam followed, looking unbeaten and bloody, hanging back to watch his partner flop on the couch, dejected.

" Would anyone care to explain why Mr. Callen looks like he got hit by a car?" Hetty appeared, her usual calm, professional demeanor in place, but everyone knew she was worried about the Lead agent. They all were, no one liked the dark look in the usually easy going agent's eyes.

" Because I did." G grumbled darkly, breaking the silence that had enveloped him since he left the store.

Hetty turned to Sam for explanation while Kensi looked horrified and Deeks barely stifled a smile. " Chasing a suspect." he answered, tossing the first aid kit at Callen who barely caught it, with a nod of thanks.

" I thought you two were going to eat lunch." Kensi argued.

" G spotted him on the way back." Sam replied. Hetty nodded, and faced Callen who was icing his shoulder while staring blankly at the ceiling.

" Mr. Callen, did we catch this suspect?" she asked.

" Nope." he shook his head.

" And what case is this suspect from?"

" Amy Callen's." G replied shortly. It was the first time Sam had heard Callen mention his sister's name since the case began, and judging from Hetty's, Kensi's, and Deeks' faces, he hadn't said it around them either.

" Alright then. Mr. Hanna I want a full report while Mr. Callen nurses his injuries." Hetty left, to go get her own report from traffic cameras and whatever sources that might be useful.

Taking the queue that now was not the time to speak, Kensi grabbed Deeks' arm with a quick explanation,

" C'mon, we;re going to the gym." And disappeared.

Sam settled down gratefully at his desk, enjoying the safety of the office for a moment before addressing his partner.

" G, anyone could've mistaken him for-"

" Don't lie to me Sam. I screwed up. But he was there, I know he was." Sam shook his head, the man was stubborn. And his mistake was a fairly large one, not expected at all from the Lead agent of such a prestigious team as theirs. But he was human.

But, on inspection Sam began to wonder if maybe he had imagined the camera man. His partner looked like hell, and that was before he got hit by the car. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his clothes looked worn and wrinkled. Dark circles under his eyes confirmed Sam's suspicions that G hadn't been sleeping much, again. The empty coffee cups in his waste bin was proof he had been mainlining caffine like Abby or Gibbs from DC. Could G have made up the illusive camera man from ten months ago?

" C'mon man, you haven't slept in what? Five days? You've been drinking coffee nonstop since Monday, and those jeans are from last week." Sam pointed out. Callen lifted his head and glared at his partner,

" Not to mention the fact that you notice what jeans I'm wearing is a little creepy, but since when are you Nate?"

" All I'm saying G is that you're-" Sam was cut off by an infuriated Callen.

" Stay out of my head Sam. I know what I saw." Now the ex-SEAL was irritated, there was only so much smart ass Callen a person could handle, even Sam who liked to think he had more patience with G than most people, except maybe Hetty.

" Yeah well, I know what I saw too. I saw you not taking care of yourself and finally paying for it. You chased the wrong man G. It's not hard, you saw the guy once, nearly a year ago. Accept it." Sam retorted, his voice more edged than was smart. G didn't answer for nearly thirty seconds, choosing instead to stand up and approach his desk, icicles for eyes.

" I've seen him a lot more than that Sam. Except this was the first time I've been awake since the graveyard." he hissed and limped away.

Sam slapped a fist on his desk. His partner was chasing a nightmare. Dammit. Why couldn't there be a normal day?

" What happened?" Kensi suddenly stood over him, with Deeks hanging back. Sam sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last half hour.

" G saw the guy who was taking pictures at Amy's grave. He tackled him in a store. Except it was the wrong guy." Sam explained simply. Kensi backed away to lean against her desk for support while Deeks fell into his seat. Callen was a key player in their team/family.

" Maybe he saw him, but the guy got away?" Kensi suggested. Sam so wanted to believe her, he wanted to jump on the idea and run with it, but he knew it would eventually bring him back here, to feeling like he was the one mowed over by the car rather than G.

" Kensi, I don't think-" Deeks began, only to be silenced by Kensi's burning look,

" We have to-" She countered but Sam shook his head, resigning to the fact that G had been seeing things. It hurt more than he thought it could.

" No Kensi, the man hasn't slept in nearly a week. Whatever he thinks he saw, he didn't." Kensi looked ready to argue, but didn't after seeing Sam's face and what it must've taken to say that she stepped down.

" So, where is our new favorite lunatic now?" Deeks asked casually.

Deeks wasn't sure he would've survived the next three seconds after he opened his mouth if there hadn't been people surrounding them.

The sun was too bright for his liking so Callen slipped inside the nearest building, a sports bar with a few screens showing off blurry images of a football game. Dropping onto the nearest stool, G signaled the bartender, a young, black haired man wiping glasses.

The alcohol burned in his throat but calmed the constant wind of anger, fear, and mistrust. Two drinks later, G felt better. Though if Sam found him, he was dead. Probably thought he was crazy right now anyways. So did Callen for that matter. But he knew he had seen the black sweatshirt. He could picture him perfectly, even after the depressants.

" Damn trust." he muttered darkly, ignoring the looks he was earning from the bartender and the other occupants of the bar. Mainly at his firearm that stuck out of his waist band. As long as they didn't call the cops, Callen didn't care. He hadn't had enough to drink to be considered drunk anyways. He needed a clear head to solve this case. Why the hell he had chosen to stay here, he didn't know. He wished he was back at the office, working rather than here, in a dimly lit bar, brooding and insane.

" Hey buddy." Crazy, that was him, Crazy G Callen. Even Sam called him nuts. " Hey, you look like life has dumped you some crap." the bartender commented, brushing aside her blond hair while washing another glass.

" Yeah, you could say that." he grumbled. Then paused, his brain woking fast and hard against the alcohol. " Damn." he muttered, smiling and shaking his head.

The bartender looked interested, " What?" she asked sweetly.

Callen stood up, and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the blond. When he walked in, he had been served by a man. She was playing him. There was a gasp to his left, and he couldn't help but glance at the brunette two seats away, gaping and on the verge of a panic attack. She looked surprisingly similar to Kensi. He wondered what she'd think if she saw him. Pointing a gun at a pretty blond. Probably call him crazy. Again.

" Woah! What the hell?" G's eyes expanded. No, no, no. Not again.

The bartender was back to being a guy with black hair and scared eyes.

" What? You..." G muttered. How did she become a he? he was seeing things, but he hadn't had that much to drink, right? he looked down at the bar and nearly passed out. The entire surface was littered with beer bottles, had to be at least seven. He didn't remember consuming that much? He couldn't have! He had to stay alert, to find the camera man. But then why was the room tipping and why was he pointing a gun at a perfectly innocent bartender?

Stuffing his gun away, G sprinted for the door, tripping over his feet as he lunged for the outdoors. On the street, no one would recognize him. No one would know he was some crazy freak. He would be safe.

Ignoring the fact he was stone drunk, he melted into another man. No need for a name, just a look. He plastered on a confident, tiny smile and gazed around him as he strutted past pedestrians, searching for any threats. He walked slightly drunkenly, and kept bumping into people and things, but it was expected in LA. He was the happy go lucky drunk. It worked.

Until he spotted the camera man.

Black sweatshirt. Cargo pants. No face. At the end of the street, staring directly at him. But his hood veiled his face perfectly from Callen's eyes. G started to run, but stopped. This was him, right? He wasn't seeing things again, was he? Callen squinted, seeing past the bustle of people and stores, past the bright LA sunlight. Sweatshirt, black. Pants, cargo. It was him alright.

Callen started sprinting, once again drawing his weapon.

" Stop! On the ground!" he roared.

Screams shot up into the air and suddenly people were scrambling into the nearest store for safety from the drunk with a gun. Except he wasn't drunk, he was a federal agent trying to discover his past.

Right?

Shoving hysteric people aside and tossing whatever else that got in his way, he reached the end of the street. No one. Callen did a 360, eyeing every movement, every person for a sign. Where was he? He had to be here! He wasn't crazy and he wasn't drunk!

" Hello? Yes, I'm on Miranda and there's this guy; he has a gun and hes totally drunk. Please! He has the freaking gun out! Help!" Callen wheeled to his right to spot the young blond with a cell phone pressed against her ear, tears coating his face. Blond, Russian, young but with a face he would know from anywhere, even hell itself.

" Alaina?" He knew it was her. There were no mistakes this time, not with her. Not with his baby sister. Alaina Rostov. She taught him Russian and tried to save his life, but died. So then... why was she here? " Alaina, it's me. It's G!" She shook her head, and stumbled back, sobbing mercilessly now. Pain and shock were ripping through G like those bullets. " Alaina, it's okay!" He switched languages, "_Alaina, it's me, it's G Callen! Please, I won't hurt you! Just come with me, I can protect you, I promise!_" he begged, extending a hopeful hand to the little girl he used to think he would always consider family. She didn't understand him.

" No! Just stay away from me!" she howled. He retreated,astonishment pounding into him like fists.

" Hey! Get back, ya drunk!" someone growled.

" What's wrong with you?" It sounded like Sam. Callen scanned the crowds, but couldn't see his partner. What was going on? Why was Alaina here? Sje was dead! He knew she was! Something was wrong. Was he really this drunk? He was confused, but he knew what being drunk felt like and this wasn't it. Was he so far gone, he didn't recognize it? Was this what his foster dad had felt like when he killed Jason? Clear in the head but confused at the same time? That didn't explain why he murdered an innocent and good man.

" G!" G. That one first letter that had begged to be discovered for forty years. Callen spun to his left. There. Sweatshirt, across the street. Was this real? Or was he seeing things, again? How many times could this happen?

But no. sweatshirt waved at him. Waved! Rage imploded into hatred which began dancing with more anger and G drove across the street, a thirst for grabbing that son of a bitch and throwing him into the interrogation room so strong the idea of being intoxicated was almost funny.

Except Callen was once again, so caught up in his hunt, didn't notice the traffic. But this time, instead of being hit by a little ol' taxi, he was blown away by a massive, black van. Similar to the one that had held his gunman nearly two years ago.

AN: Thanks for reading and please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, 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please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, review.

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	3. Chapter 3 Hetty's Unique Brand

AN: Okay, I know. It's been over a month since I've updated. Sorry! So here are two chapters since I'm leaving for 2-3 weeks. You might get a surprise update in about 2 weeks but that depends on if I can find wifi. Enjoy and Review!

Disclaimer: I only own what I make up and my dreams about NCIS LA….

Chapter 3 Hetty's Unique Brand Of A Pep Talk

" I take it there is more to this story than just losing a suspect." Hetty remarked, Sam looked up from where he had begun filling out her report, hoping G would show up after defusing a little. So far there had been no sign of the agent, defused or not. Kensi and Deeks had disappeared, probably for lunch or the gym. It was times like these that Sam appreciated his boss' secrecy. Callen's beaten appearance had started more than enough rumors, if Sam was called to the head honcho's office by the end of the week, the whole world would think Special Agent Callen had gone rogue and was murdering Navy officers left and right just to taunt them.

This way the worst that could be said was that G was slightly crazy and probably jumped in front of car while chasing a suspect. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

Sam sighed, tossing aside his pen, " G thinks he saw the man from his nightmares. The one who was taking-" Hetty finished his sentence sadly,

" Photos at his sister's grave." The story had been kept a team secret for nearly a year; Sam had to wonder how much longer that would last. " And you don't believe him?" Sam hated answering this, especially to Hetty since he wasn't stupid enough to try and lie.

" We caught the man, and it wasn't him." he explained simply. Hetty nodded diplomatically and considered the conundrum.

" And what if this mystery camera man got away, switching places with the perpetrator, or non-perpetrator, you caught?" she asked. Sam had the answer already in his mouth, but it tasted sour and rotten.

" Hetty, Callen hasn't slept in almost a week, and hasn't taken care of himself in who knows how long. He was imagining-"

Special Agent, ex-SEAL, muscled, and fully capable of taking care of himself, Sam Hanna didn't think he had ever been so scared in his life when Hetty opened her mouth midway through his speech.

" Bull!" It was the first time Hetty had ever really yelled at one of them. She berated them and scared the hell out of them, but only because she never yelled, her other, even scarier ways of keeping them in control worked far better than any screaming match could. But now it seemed her patience had reached an end. Hetty narrowed her eyes at him, freezing his heart. " And you know it Samuel Hanna." Oh God, his first name. He had told her on his first day, he went by Sam and there was no way around it. And until right now that had been respected. But what's more, Hetty wasn't finished. " You and Mr. Callen have one of the longest and best partnerships I have ever seen, and the trust between the two of you is untouchable. But Mr. Hanna, if you cannot trust your partner well enough to believe him when he says he see someone, I do believe we need to do some rearranging." Though he knew it was stupid, Sam had to defend himself.

" But it's impossible! He can't have seen-!" Once again Hetty's voice was as deadly as a dagger when she stopped him midsentence.

" Why the hell not? It is your job as his partner to believe him, nightmares or imaginary regardless, as it is his to trust you. And I think you know how hard it is for Mr. Callen to trust you as he does, but he does it everyday and you do too. Trusting someone fully, whether you are in this job or not, is impossible. Do not let the impossible stop you, because this team has accomplished a lot of what you might deem 'impossible'! So, don't tell me you don't believe your partner Mr. Hanna, because I know you might think it's impossible, but I can assure you, impossible or not, you had better believe Mr. Callen." While her tone was as harsh and cruel as a bullet, it was obvious that Hetty wasn't enraged with Sam, just at his sudden lax in trust.

If he were getting married again, Sam knew whom'd he have give a speech. That woman knew how to talk. Maybe that's why she was such a good agent.

But she was right. He had to trust G, even if he thought he was wrong. G had done it for him in the past, and vice versa. Now he had to do it again. Sam was more mistaken than Callen, because even if G had imagined the cameraman, Sam had broken their partnership. They weren't two guys going from case to case, they were partners. And he hadn't acted like a partner, more like a brother. And there was a difference. Brothers were partners but less trusting of each other, they questioned each other. Partners were brothers who only questioned each other about something that seemed able to go both ways, like how to do an op. But on matters as solid as what G saw, they never questioned each other. Or at least, they shouldn't.

Eric whistled abruptly but it crackled and died midway. Sam glanced at the blond tech; he looked a little paler than usual but other than that it was as if he were announcing a case.

" Hey, you guys need to come see this. Now." he declared and hurried away. Sam raised an eyebrow at Hetty,

" You know about this?" he asked. She shook her head, caught off guard and that in and of itself should have been an impossibility.

AN: If you hate this drop me a line, suggest how you think it would be better, and I'd be delighted to have the advice!

And if you don't, (Anyone?), drop me a line anyways, and tell me how to make it better!

Thanks so much for reading!

Searching


	4. Chapter 4 Horror Movies In Eagle's Nest

Disclaimer: Seriously, if anyone wants to hand over the rights to NCIS LA as a late birthday present, you don't even have to give me a card! Until then, no. Just no.

Chapter 4 Horror Movies In Eagle's Nest

" Sam, did Hetty say what this is about? Eric won't tell us a thing!" Kensi cried when he entered Eagle's Nest. The ex-SEAL shook his head, shooting a surprised look at the blond tech. He shook his head slowly,

" Dude, I'm not really sure what to say."

" Play it." Sam ordered. The blond nodded and tapped a few buttons.

The big screen sprung into action.

It was Miranda Street. Sam recognized the stores and the sports bar he had considered going to once or twice but had never actually entered.

On the sidewalk stumbled a man, who looked slightly drunk, but more confused and scared than under the influence. Almost immediately, Sam recognized his partner.

" Oh my God." Kensi muttered quieting, vocalizing the least of what was spinning through their minds. G strutted along, looking falsely cheery and happy go lucky. And as if he was in a movie, the cheesy happiness was gone, replaced by shock, then anger, then confusion.

Callen pulled out his gun and pointed it down the street.

" No..." Kensi murmured, and she wasn't the only one stunned. Sam was wondering if this was the right video while Deeks thought that maybe Callen had an evil twin. Eric had seen it once already but couldn't imagine the strong, easygoing agent being so... volatile. Drunk or not.

The street exploded with screams and people diving for the cover of the stores. In a few moments, the street is nearly cleared. All the while, Callen is fighting to get to the other end, rushing between shoppers and pedestrians, propelling himself past them in a frantic dash. And then he's at the end of the street and all you see is him, standing there, looking confused with his gun out. Next to him is a woman, talking rapidly into a cell phone.

Callen focuses on her, and tries to help her up but she just backs away. He looks around abruptly, and spots something across the street.

" Eric." Sam orders. The tech types like lightning on the keys and the camera zips in closer and all the air seems to disappear from Sam's lungs.

The cameraman. There's no mistaking the hidden face, the black sweatshirt and cargo pants or the childish, jeering wave. Callen had seen him, he had been right. And Sam hadn't trusted him enough to believe him; causing this mess.

But what was coming was so much more than a simple mess. A mess, they could fix. Find Callen, Hetty could clean up this issue, and then they could hunt down Sweatshirt. Unfortunately, Callen of course did not stand there and wait for Sweatshirt to leave, he sprinted across the street.

Maybe his head was so focused on the mysterious figure from his nightmares, or what had just happened, or maybe he was drunk, but Callen didn't see the black van whisking around the corner. He didn't spot it swerving towards him, or the steel ramming into him.

But his team did, and they were past horrified.

And what truly terrified them was the two men, dressed in black rush out of the back of the van and load an unmoving G into the back before whisking away.

Surprisingly, Sweatshirt hadn't disappeared; he stood there and waved for an extra second before melting in the crowds, just like G did everyday.

The screen went blank.

" He's taunting us." Deeks declared finally. Sam nodded, son of a bitch.

" I do believe he's doing a lot more than taunting us. He's kidnapped Mr. Callen." Sam didn't bother turning to look at Hetty; he should've known she would come to watch this horror film.

" What was Callen pointing his gun at?" Kensi demanded. Eric turned to his computer for a moment before pulling up an image of the street. At the very end,

" There! Sweatshirt's waiting in the crowd!" Sam pointed out; Eric zoomed in on the figure.

" How did he get from there to the other street so fast?" Deeks asked.

" He didn't Mr. Deeks." Hetty answered. Eric hit play and they watched while Callen struggled through the crowds, Sweatshirt slipped into the shadows. Then the camera panned out to reveal another Sweatshirt across the street.

" There were two of them." Kensi announced. But Sam wasn't listening; he was more interested in the women his partner had been speaking to.

" Eric, the blond G was talking to." The tech nodded,

" I was just getting to that. She placed a 9-1-1 call while he was there so you can hear Callen in the background. Listen."

"9-1-1, what's you emergency?"

" Hello?"

" What's your emergency?"

" Yes, I'm on Miranda and there's this guy, he has a gun and he's totally drunk. Please! He has the freaking gun out! Help!" the women screeched. It took all of Sam's will power not to order her to shut up.

But then, very faint, only audible because Eric enhanced it, was G and Sam understood the mistake.

" Alina? Alina, it's me! It's G! Alina, it's okay!_ Alina, it's me, it's G Callen! Please, I won't hurt you! Just come with me, I can protect you, I promise!_" Even to Sam, G sounded a little crazy. Fear and uncertainty shined in his voice like they were focused on with. Except when Callen thought Alina was alive; he had been so happy.

" No! Just stay away from me!" Eric stopped the video. No one wanted to speak, to say what they were all thinking. If G was seeing dead women in the street, something was very, extremely wrong.

" What did he say?" Deeks finally asked. Hetty translated, the grief in her voice clear evidence of the toll this was taking on Hetty.

" It's G Callen. I won't hurt you. Come with me, I can protect you, I promise." she sighed.

" Who's Alina?" Kensi added.

" G's old foster sister. She taught him Russian." Sam explained. Kensi raised an eyebrow,

" I didn't know that." she confessed. Sam shrugged.

" But she understood him." Eric murmured, concentration clear on his face.

" Eric, I think you need your ears checked out. She didn't sound Russian." Deeks argued. The blond shook his head,

" No, she didn't. But she said, 'No! Just stay away from me!'" Eric countered. Sam smiled, and Kensi slapped Eric on the back.

" Good catch Agent Beale." she joked. He shrugged, but was obviously pleased with himself.

" Except Alina's dead Mr. Beale." Hetty pointed out. " Yes, but how many grown women can there be who speak Russian, still uses the word 'totally', and just so happens to be present at Callen's kidnapping, which is somehow connected with his past?" Kensi pointed out.

" I'm guessing one." Deeks replied triumphantly. Hetty nodded,

" Then I know where you are starting." she disappeared to go do whatever it was Hetty did to save them every day.

" Hang on, where are we starting?" Eric asked, his moment of genius over.

" Russians!" Deeks cheered, a little over excited. " What? Vodka, cool accents, beautiful women?" Kensi rolled her eyes and faced the screen, thinking.

" If there are multiple Sweatshirts, then is it possible this has nothing to do with Callen's past?"

Sam considered the question, " Yes, but how would they know what G saw at his sister's grave? He only told us, so-"

" So they must've been part of Callen's photo shoot." Deeks finished seriously. Sam nodded.

" Okay what's next?" Kensi asked. Sam stepped forward, a plan already forming in his mind.

" Next we find G. Kensi, Deeks, find that girl. Eric, can you track that van using street cams?" The tech nodded,

" I can try." he turned to his computer. Sam followed Kensi and Deeks out the door when his cell phone rang. Hoping against all odds it was his best friend, Sam answered it quickly.

" Hello?"

" Sam." Agent Hanna reeled. Callen? How did he escape so fast?

" G, where are you?" Everyone stopped, and swiveled to stare at Sam.

" Uh... that's a great question. I think I'm using a pay phone on Dwyer Avenue." Sam had never heard of it.

" Eric, Dwyer Ave. Pay phone." Sam hissed. The tech's finger flooded his keyboard as he searched for the right buttons.

" How did you get away?" Sam demanded.

" Get away?" Callen asked. Sam's eyes narrowed,

" Yeah, you were kidnapped. Big, black van hit you when you were chasing Sweatshirt on Miranda." He explained, waiting for Callen to remember.

" What are you talking about?" his partner demanded.

" You mean you weren't on Miranda?" Sam asked. Now the team's gapes turned into worried stares.

" No, why would I be on Miranda? There's nothing there but sports bars and a couple stores." What the hell?

" G, I saw a video of you on Miranda five minutes ago. You were chasing the same guy from this morning." Sam explained, hoping something would click.

" You saw that?" Rolling his eyes, he sighed.

" No G, Eric found that video and hid it from us." he replied sarcastically.

" But I didn't get kidnapped or hit by a car Sam." Callen ignored the remark, choosing instead to argue.

" I'll show you the video when you get back here." Sam promised.

" No. I didn't. I didn't get taken, they didn't take me Sam. I know they didn't." Oh God. He sounded delusional.

" G, who's they?" he demanded calmly. What was wrong with him? Running around with his gun out, memory loss? That didn't sound like G. And now, he was mumbling about some mysterious people who didn't kidnap him. " Them! Sweatshirt! Alina! The Russians!" G snapped angrily into the phone. Sam reeled. Callen got mad, but he hardly ever snapped, especially not at Sam.

" Callen, Alina's dead. We caught her killers last year." It was like talking to a child, constantly correcting and reminding. But this was G Callen, who was far from a child and had been for a long time now.

" No. I saw her. She didn't recognize me... oh God." Fear struck through Sam, just from the terror in his partner's voice.

" What's wrong?" he demanded roughly.

" It's happening again. Something's wrong with me Sam. I can't remember... people keep on switching places... Alina didn't recognize me... something's off... crazy. Must be crazy..." he kept on muttering and Sam couldn't help but wonder if he really was drunk.

" You're not crazy Callen. I'll pick you up, just stay put." Hanna ordered, scrambling downstairs with Kensi and Deeks following quickly.

" No... Don't. Stay away Sam... I'll hurt you." Sam halted on the staircase, his heart stopping with his feet. Had G Callen, his partner and best friend, just threatened him?

" G-"

" No, stay away. I'll hurt you like I hurt them. Stay away Sam." What the hell? Everything was slipping from Sam's fingers and there didn't seem to be a way of ending it.

" Like who? Who'd you hurt Callen?" Hanna demanded. There was no way to describe Kensi and Deeks' faces when he said that. Even Hetty gasped from her desk, beyond stunned.

" Them... I have to go. Stay away." No, no. He better not hang up.

" Don't you dare hang up on me G!" No response. " G!" he bellowed into the empty phone.

G Callen had officially gone rogue.

Something was wrong with him. Callen's suspicions had been confirmed the moment Sam told him about being kidnapped.

He started walking, quickly but stealthily to avoid the blood that dripped down his clothes from being detected by the few passing pedestrians. Mainly surfers, but a couple people walked their dogs in the hot sun.

What was wrong? People weren't whom they appeared to be... the dead were coming back... what happened if he hurt someone innocent? Or if Sam came, and Callen thought he was Sweatshirt? No... He had to do this alone. It had to be just him... like always.

First things first, get new clothes. He could barely glance down at himself without gagging on what little remained in his stomach. Blood everywhere, in his hair, staining his clothes, charring his skin.

He slipped inside a shop, swiftly picking up a new pair of jeans and dark hoodie. Like Sweatshirt.

Locking himself in the bathroom, he cleaned his blond hair and face quickly. Hetty would kill him, he mused when he caught sight of himself in the dirty mirror. His eyes were underlined with black circles; the series of cuts and bruises clear on his pale skin. His blue eyes had an animal like tinge to them. Drugs? Maybe.

Shaking his head, hoping to clear some of the fuzz inside, G disappeared into the store, snagging a banana as he went.

Out on the street, he kept his head down. Even now, blood free and almost normal looking, he kept hidden.

" Callen..." some one whispered in his ear. He spun around, lifting his bruised and bleeding face, much to the astonishment of the nearby crowd.

No Sweatshirt, just the normal tanned and skinny people enjoying the beach and sun.

" Ca-allen..." they sang, once again behind him. He was hearing things now. Fantastic.

With one hand on his weapon, he whirled around. Just in case.

But once again there was no one except a stunned and scared crowd, watching this armed maniac looking for something that wasn't there.

" G Callen..." Now he had to be hearing things... Callen didn't turn around; instead he began walking ahead, once again. Fighting the instinct to turn around, just to make sure. Just in case.

But that would be playing right into their hands... and if they had Alina then he wouldn't do that. Couldn't give those bastards the satisfaction.

" Come back, please!" the voice. He had heard it before... long before. Before NCIS, before becoming a cop, before the system. Amy.

Now he had no say in whether or not he spun around. He just did it. Facing the mob of pedestrians, he couldn't see her, but he knew his sister was there.

" Amy!" he called. She was dead, wasn't she? She was dead... he knew she was. But so was Alina, and he had seen her. Someone had been playing with him... someone was playing with him.

" Come back please!" she begged.

" Amy!" he screamed, sprinting through the crowd. He had to get to her, had to protect from whoever was doing this to him. Get her to NCIS, safe. They'd take care of her there, until he could.

But what if this was another mind game? What if they were playing with him, again? What if she wasn't real? What if he made another mistake and hurt her? He couldn't risk that. He could never risk that.

" Come back, please!" He had to help her though, had to do something.

He whirled around, looking for her, but instead found the next best thing. An abandoned cell phone on a bench.

He snatched it up, and dialed a couple digits.

" Eric Beale." the tech's peppy voice answered.

" Reese Street. A woman in her mid-forties, named Amy Callen, needs immediate help. She's in danger of being kidnapped. Get Sam over here now." he ordered, his words coming out in a speedy stream but clear.

" Callen? Is that you? What happened to you? The team is two steps away from diving off the deep end they're looking for you so hard! Callen...? Hello? Hello?"

Callen sprinted down the street, praying that Sam would help her if he couldn't.

" Sam." Hanna replied to his cell's constant whining.

" Sam, it's Eric. Callen just called me, saying on Reese Street Amy Callen is about to be taken." the blond reported in a rush of jumbled words. Amy Callen?

" Eric, Amy's dead." Sam retorted, grabbing his keys all the same and motioning Kensi and Deeks to follow him.

" I know, but that's what he said." Dammit. Someone had to be drugging him.

" Thanks Eric. Tell Hetty, then pull up the satellite images, see if you can see any Callens on that street." the ex-SEAL ordered.

" Callens? As in plural?" Eric asked skeptically. Sam hung up.

" What happened?" Deeks demanded as they opened the door to the OSP office.

" G called Eric. Said Amy Callen was about to be kidnapped on Reese Street." he reported, ignoring the shared look between partners.

" Uh... Sam, Amy Callen is dead." Kensi reminded him timidly. Sam slammed the door after he muttering darkly,

" So everyone keeps telling me."

The drive was short and silent. When they reached the street, there was nothing. No Callen, male or female. No Sweatshirts. Nothing.

" Dammit." Sam cursed, kicking a nearby trashcan. Kensi and Deeks stood back, giving him and themselves space. They were missing something; they had to be. Callen hadn't just suddenly gone rogue. His past, and the mystery of it was driving him crazy.

But why? Something had to be triggering this. Someone was messing with him. Callen didn't imagine Amy or Alina.

" Sam, we got something." Kensi announced, energy ringing in her voice as she gaped at the text on her cell.

He rushed over, his earlier anger blindsided by this new development.

" Don't look for me. I can't come back. Tell Henrietta I quit." Deeks read aloud over his partner's shoulder. Kensi gaped at Sam, searching for answers in the older agent. He kept blinking, hoping, praying, he'd read something else. Anything else. The first sentence was unsurprising; it was the last two that made Sam one again second guess his partner. For the three years Sam had known G, there were always questions. Always strings left dangling. But his never ending, pain in the ass, harder than steel, most irritating partner's stubbornness was something that could never be questioned. Until now. Now, he was quitting. Today, he was giving up on something he loved. He had lost himself. And Sam wasn't sure if he could ever find G again. And without Callen, Sam knew his own pain of worry, fear, anger and betrayal were only going to expand and the slash with sharper claws.

" Get Eric-" He began to order the brunette, but she was already on the phone with the tech. There was a pause while the men searched the scene for something to find, trying to bridge the gap as Kensi conversed with the blond.

" Thanks Eric." she finished and hung up. Neither man tried to hide his curious look as they spun around and waited, as if Kensi were dangling a doughnut in front of them. " He traced the text to a factory, about twenty minutes south of here."

There was no need for orders. Sam didn't need to play Senior Field Agent for the other team members to know. Engines roaring, gas spewing, they flew to save their friend. The surrounding crowd, consumed by the thought of a crazy gunman just waiting to blow their heads off, would never notice the two cars ripping past them. They would never know the insane, dangerous terrorist had saved their lives, willing to pay his own instead. They would never know anything because that's how it was supposed to be. They could lead their normal lives and G could be drugged and confused so they could hate him.

So long for awhile! Have an amazing summer and smile!

Please review but thanks for reading!

Searching

If someone starts a petition stating that Shane Brennan should become the Emperor of the World and PM's it me, I'll set up a vote. Kill Callen or let Callen live?

Thanks again! You guys rock my socks off! (If I were wearing any…)

Searching (Again)


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